I am old now, my time nearly done

Lived life with few regrets

And yet, if I could?


Sunlight filters through the shuttered window

I am reminded of summertime in Alabaskir

Quaint and old, nestling in the middle of nowhere


Young lovers hand in hand, laughing

Running through the orange grove

The lush meadow stretched beneath our gaze


Promises made, promises broken

Faraway lands, dreams are made

I loved you then, I love you still


Tired and weary of struggle

Living in suspended isolation

I’ll close my eyes, and return to Alabaskir


Michael Mullins 2011

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